Rash Decision
by Kasiliz
Summary: Jack itches.


Title: Rash Decision

Alternate Title: What Haptened? (Chocolate colonels to those that get it.)

Pairings: none 

Spoilers: none

Season: any between early S3 and late S7

Content Warnings: none

Summary: Jack itches.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of the Sci-Fi Channel, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions, and probably someone else I'm missing. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and anyone wanting to pay me for it should be committed to a mental institution. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: This fic is for our evil little Hungarian sister, Aniko. It was promised a long, long time ago, and it's finally finished. All debts have been paid. Many thanks to Crockett for her ever-offered betas.

ooxooxooxooxooxoo

"Stop scratching."

"It itches."

"_Stop scratching_."

Jack waited until Janet turned around to continue her instructions to one of the SGC nurses.

"Colonel," Janet said without turning around, "if you don't stop scratching, I'm going to strap you down for your physical. Now leave it alone – I'll be done here in just a moment."

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to think about the incredible itching that had started on his arms when he got out of the shower after SG-1's last mission. "You're not worried about this?"

Janet pocketed her penlight and sighed. "Let me know when the results come back," she instructed the nurse. She shifted to look at Jack again. "Have a seat, Colonel, and I'll take a look at you."

Jack dutifully sat back down on one of the beds and held out his arms. A bright red rash was worming its way up from the back of his hands to just below his elbows. "What is it?"

"Pruritic, erythematous macules and papules," Janet answered just to rile up the unruly colonel.

"Uh, what?"

"It looks like a rash," Janet said as she rotated his arms to see the extent of the damage.

"Well I know _that_. How did I get it? I don't remember touching any new plants on our last mission, so what's with the poison ivy?"

"Take your shirt off."

"Ooh, Doc. Here?" Jack waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Getting no response, Jack complied and pulled the black T-shirt over his head, wincing slightly as it brushed against his forearms.

Janet took note of the extent of the dermatitis as the colonel sat fidgeting in front of her. He was obviously trying very hard to keep his hands latched onto the edges of the infirmary bed instead of scratching at the bumps demanding his attention. Janet ran her gloved hands across the front of Jack's shoulders and down his chest past his ribs to his waistband, trying to feel any irregularities in the normally smooth skin. She moved on to his back, repeating the process, then made a couple of notes on her clipboard.

"Well?"

"It looks like it's not confined to your arms. You've got some reddened patches on your torso that will likely develop into the same type of rash you're already experiencing."

Jack's hands immediately went to his chest and started scratching randomly.

"I want to run some tests to see if I can rule out some of the more earthly causes before we jump to the conclusion that you contracted this off world. Just to be on the safe side, I want you to stay in the infirmary. And no one is allowed contact until I determine if this is contagious."

Jack opened his mouth to protest his confinement, but Janet cut him off with practiced ease.

"I don't want to hear it. You know this is the way you would handle things in my situation, and I know you really just want to complain to take your mind off of the itching. I'm going to give you something to help ease the irritation after I take my samples." Janet pulled the curtain around the bed and stuck her head back in. "Don't let your hands touch your face or anywhere else you don't want this rash spreading to," she said with a pointed look toward his groin. "No scratching!"

Janet left the colonel alone while she collected the materials she'd need. She knew very well that he was disobeying her parting order not to scratch at his rapidly worsening rash. It looked like poison ivy. So far it acted like poison ivy. Though she hoped it _was_ just a simple case of poison ivy, it was doubtful. SG-1 had been on a mission for 72 hours preceding their return, and none of them had left the base the day before, choosing to sleep in their quarters due to their early departure time. She would have to call the rest of the team in to get checked over. Though nothing had seemed abnormal in their post mission physicals two hours ago, their blood work had yet to come back, and Jack was certainly having problems now.

Janet quietly made her way back toward the colonel's bed, taking special care not to let her heels click on the floor. She stopped just outside of the privacy curtain and waited. She could _hear_ Jack scratching behind the barrier, but she would place money on him being the picture of innocence when she made her appearance.

She was not disappointed. Jack was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, running his hands along the sheet at his sides but making no attempt to scratch either his arms or is now-welted chest.

"Well?"

"I told you scratching would make it worse," Janet scolded, pointing her clipboard toward his chest.

Jack had the good grace to look slightly ashamed but defended himself nonetheless. "I didn't start scratching until _after_ it looked like this."

Upon closer examination the doctor saw that while the minor splotches on her patient's torso had developed into angry looking red marks, the initial rash on his arms had deepened in color to an alarming purple.

"Colonel, I want you to strip – "

Jack raised his eyebrow again, thinking about going for another suggestive waggle.

"– and put on a gown," Janet instructed, ignoring his expected childish behavior and handing him his gown before closing the curtain again. "I'm going to call in the rest of your team in case they may have been exposed to whatever's causing this."

Jack looked down at his new apparel with disdain. He'd never been overly fond of the standard issue, paper thin, back-open-so-your-ass-pokes-out, infirmary garb. On the other hand, it would feel good not to have the waistband of his BDUs aggravating the rash that was spreading ever further southward. It felt as though it was literally crawling across his skin, breaking out in new areas at an alarming rate and showing no mercy about where it attacked.

Jack considered what that last thought would mean. He did not relish the idea of the painful, burning itch covering the upper half of his body encompassing certain sensitive places. Not only would that be painful in itself, but so would the doc's examination. That woman had eternally cold hands and was ruthless about placing them where she wanted, when she wanted, and stop complaining.

Janet returned to find Jack laying in bed, clutching the sheets at his side and staring at the ceiling. This time she didn't think he'd been scratching before she got there, based on his perturbed instead of oh-so-innocent expression. He'd changed, as ordered, and had placed his folded clothes on the chair beside the bed. They'd need to be bagged up and handled carefully to prevent any one else from being contaminated by them.

"It's worse," Jack stated through clenched teeth. "And I **didn't** scratch." His glare dared her to question his sincerity.

"You'll be happy to know that no one on your team is complaining of any symptoms similar to yours. Dr. Jackson has a headache, but that's not really unusual for him. They're all being checked over by one of my nurses, just in case, and are being asked to stay on base until we can determine the cause of this."

Janet looked at her watch then back to her patient. It had been less than half an hour since he came in with the initial complaint of the rash on his lower arms. Now he was lying there with most of his upper body covered in welts, and, judging by the way his thumb was jabbing into his hip, she guessed that his lower half would soon be affected also.

"You mentioned giving me something to stop this infernal itching?" Jack gritted his teeth, obviously concentrating very hard on ignoring his body's natural urge to bring even temporary relief to these common, yet painful and annoying lesions.

"Yes, Colonel," Janet replied and held out a tube of hydrocortisone cream. She also had a syringe full of prednisone in her pocket that she extracted.

Jack grimaced when he saw the needle but acknowledged to himself that even being stuck with a horse needle was more tolerable than this rash. He'd subject himself to most anything the doc wanted as long as she held the key to soothing, itch-less bliss.

"Before you get these, though, I'd like to draw some blood and collect a couple of skin scrapings to send to the lab. We should know within a few hours whether we're dealing with something terrestrial here."

"When I get poison ivy, Doc, it _is_ pretty bad. But never _this_ bad."

Jack schooled his features to be impassive as Janet began scraping off pieces of skin from his forearm with a scalpel blade. "Better watch that thing, Doc. One slip and a little itch won't matter much."

Janet flashed him a wry grin and finished with her scraping. "Three tubes of blood then we're done."

The blood collection was done without incident, and Jack took his steroid injection with minimal grimacing. Jack gratefully grabbed the tube-of-imminent-relief and began smoothing the soothing lotion into his sore and sensitive skin. The medication stung when it was first applied to a few of the open lesions, but the promise of relief outweighed the momentary discomfort. He continued to spread the slick cream from the top of his arms, across his neck, and down to his waist. Looking up to make sure the doc was still labeling and arranging her samples, Jack quickly squeezed some of the medication into his hands and began massaging it into his groin area, holding back a hiss at the mixed sensations this caused.

"Sir, how're you – " Jack looked up to see a wide-eyed Sam hurriedly retreating to the other side of the curtain again, stumbling over Teal'c in the process. "Sorry, sir."

Jack looked back down at the sight that must've greeted his 2IC. There he was, sprawled on the bed with his hands rapidly moving in a particular place beneath his gown. Oh, gods, this was embarrassing. The near-intolerable itch intensified as a full blush creeped up through his already inflamed skin.

He glanced over at Dr. Fraiser, who was studiously avoiding his gaze and professionally attempting not to chuckle at his new predicament. She had been trying to let her patient coat his rash with some modicum of privacy while she prepared the samples to go to the lab. She'd known the rest of his team might stop by for a moment, and their timing was priceless. Colonel O'Neill was sporting a look of frustration tinged with embarrassment and couldn't seem to decide whether to continue his ministrations or call his team back into the cubicle.

Jack sighed overly dramatically and placed his hands at his sides. "It's okay, Carter. You can come in now."

Teal'c retracted the curtain from one side of the bed, revealing a red-faced Samantha Carter staring intently at the toes of her boots. Daniel was beside her, concerned as always, and trying to balance his glasses on top of a small stack of books and folders.

"Hey, Jack. How's it, um, how's it going?" Daniel took a step closer to the bed and nodded toward the load he was carrying. "We've been going over the reports of flora and fauna from the preliminary data, as well as some of the samples Sam took while we were there, and so far we haven't found anything from P4C-985 that might've caused this."

"Thanks, Danny. I didn't touch anything, anyway," Jack grumbled. "But none of you have any problems, right?"

Janet intercepted, "As I told you, Colonel, no one on your team seems to be affected but you. In fact, the only itch-related incident we've had in the last month was a small scab on Ferretti's hand almost two weeks ago."

Carter nodded and looked at him, her face no longer imitating a radish. "She's right, sir. We're all fine." Sam made her way to the opposite side of the bed from Daniel and looked down at Jack worriedly. His arms were full of angry red and purple welts that stood out in stark contrast to the white of the infirmary bedding. The feet and legs sticking out below his gown were also afflicted, though to a somewhat lesser degree. It was obvious to the whole team that their commander was not a happy camper right now, and not due solely to his continued presence in the infirmary. "Are you certain there's nothing you could've come in contact with at home that could cause this?"

Jack shook his head. He'd given it a lot of thought but couldn't come up with anything. "Nothing I can think of. The back yard's never had poison ivy, oak, or sumac; I didn't go into the woods; and it's winter, for crying out loud."

"We could go over and check things out if you'd like, Janet," Daniel offered.

"And I shall remain to investigate your quarters, O'Neill," Teal'c asserted. "Perhaps the mystery will be revealed there."

Daniel looked at the others. "I've, um, I've been introducing him to certain historic literature. He's taken a liking to the Sherlock Holmes stories."

"Well, then, Teal'c, this should be right up your alley. Find out what did this so the Doc here can make it stop!" Jack began to fidget once again, obviously uncomfortable.

"Colonel, the steroid injection you were given should be taking effect by now. Have you noticed any improvement?"

Jack grunted. "Maybe."

"Well, I'll have one of the nurses prepare an oatmeal bath for you to soak in. That may help relieve some of the discomfort." Janet signaled to one of the nurses working at the other end of the infirmary.

"And we'll get started trying to find something at home or on base you could've come into contact with," Sam said. She and the others nodded toward the colonel and filed out of the infirmary.

When Janet completed giving the nurse her instructions she re-closed the curtain surrounding Jack's bed.

"Lt. Woods is preparing your bath in the mobile infirmary tub. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Jack nodded his head in thanks and lay back on the bed trying to think of anything, _anything_, besides the terrible itching sensation that now encased most of his body. He felt it behind his ears and along his chin, and he knew no matter how hard he tried not to scratch it would inevitably encompass the rest of his face in time.

A relatively brief eternity later he could hear the squeak of casters as what he assumed was the mobile tub was being wheeled into his section of the infirmary. The noise stopped just to the right of his curtain, and he turned his head in anticipation of the head that would soon be poking through. A bit more noise and a moment later and he was not let down.

Janet and Lt. Woods had wheeled the metal tub full of murky, cream colored liquid into position so that once the curtains were rearranged Jack could step out of bed and into the tub in privacy.

"Stay in as long as you'd like, Colonel. Between the cool water and the oatmeal solution some of the sting should come out of your lesions. We'll just be outside if you need anything."

"Thanks, Doc," Jack said as he climbed out of the bed and began undoing the ties on his gown. He shuddered as his fingers touched his back and set off a new wave of itching down and across his shoulders.

Janet stopped when she saw him shudder and quietly went over to help him out of his gown, her professional mask firmly in place. She took the opportunity to look over his body, noting the extent and severity of the lesions along his lower back where his waistband had obviously been exacerbating the irritation. He was covered with red to purple welts along his back, chest, arms and legs. It was amazing how quickly the rash had appeared and intensified. He had to be miserable.

Jack studiously avoided meeting her gaze, his embarrassment as obvious as his gratefulness for her discreet care and help getting him out of his clothing and into the bath. His sigh as he lowered himself into the water caused Janet to chuckle softly, and he looked at her sheepishly. "Thanks."

"Any time, sir." Janet gathered the contaminated clothing and bedding and placed them along with her lab coat in a bag for laundering. Her gloves were stripped off and disposed of in a nearby trashcan. "Let me know when you're ready to get out."

ooxooxooxooxooxoo

Just over an hour later Janet was interrupted in her paperwork by a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, somewhat distracted.

"Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c inclined his head in greeting, moving further into the small, cluttered office.

"Teal'c, hi. Were you able to find anything in the colonel's quarters?" she asked.

"I believe I have, Doctor Fraiser."

"Really?" The surprise was evident in her voice.

"Indeed, though not in O'Neill's quarters." Teal'c laid a square grey bar of soap on Janet's desk. "This is not O'Neill's normal brand of soap. He prefers Irish Spring," Teal'c stated solemnly.

"Teal'c, just because this isn't his usual soap doesn't mean – "

"It is Major Ferretti's soap. Did you not say that Major Ferretti also experienced a rash?"

"Yes," Janet said slowly, "but what Ferretti's had was localized and minor compared to what the colonel has." Ferretti had come back from a mission almost two weeks ago with a small, reddened patch of three bumps on the back of his left wrist. He hadn't complained about excessive itching, and the lesions had not spread; they had quickly scabbed over and healed within a couple of days.

She shook her head, though she was giving serious thought to Teal'c's theory. "Let's see if Sam and Daniel come up with anything. In the meantime, I'll send this up to the lab for analysis."

She grabbed a glove from the box on the corner of her desk and donned it before picking up the soap and placing it in a sample bag. The more she thought about it, the more of an odd sense it made. The colonel admitted to severe reactions to terrestrial poison ivy. There was no telling what kind of reaction he would have to an off-world variation, if that were what this was. And if the offending substance was somehow on the soap the colonel used, it would help explain the full body distribution of the rash since the lesions did not seem to be solely migratory. It was possible, highly unlikely, but possible. Janet sighed, knowing that if it was spread by the soap the rash was likely affecting places the colonel hadn't admitted to yet, and despite her recent opportunity to view the extent of the damage, she had avoided looking _there_. No wonder he was fidgeting so much.

"Teal'c, you may want to wash your hands, just in case."

Teal'c inclined his head in acquiescence and went to the nearest infirmary sink to scrub.

Janet handed the sample bag to Lt. Woods, ever present when she was needed, to bring up to the lab. She then went to the curtain surrounding the colonel's new "suite" and peeked around to check on him. She smiled at the sight and walked back toward her office.

Jack was sleeping in the tub, his head leaned all the way back and his knees sticking out of the water. Janet decided to let him sleep if he was relaxed enough to do so. There was very little chance of him slipping into the water and drowning. His 6'2" frame had to scrunch to fit in there as it was. He had obviously managed to dunk his head at some point, though, since she had seen his hair sticking out stiff in all directions with tiny flecks of oatmeal.

Janet met Teal'c back at her office. "He's sleeping," she said, answering his eyebrow's silent inquiry. "We'll wake him if we find out anything more, but for now I'd prefer to just let him rest."

Janet's phone rang with perfect timing. "This is Dr. Fraiser," she answered and listened intently to what was said on the other end of the line. "That's okay, Sam. Teal'c may have come up with something here. We'll discuss it more when you get back."

Janet hung up and turned to Teal'c. "That was Sam. She and Daniel didn't find anything at the colonel's house. They're on their way back now."

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Jack woke up with a tremendous crick in his neck and a shrunken, wilted feeling in his feet and other regions. He slowly unfolded, rising out of the tepid water and marveling at the overall lack of itchiness he was experiencing. Whatever was in that water was a godsend, he decided and reached for the towel Janet had thoughtfully left within reach at the foot of the bed. He could faintly hear the voices of his teammates and fervently hoped that they'd at least let him get dried and dressed before barging in.

It was close, but he'd made it into his new gown and was in the process of making the bed with the fresh linens he'd found when the voices arrived outside his space.

"Colonel, may we come in?" Janet called, knowing that the movement she'd heard indicated that Jack was out of the bath and hoping she'd given him enough time to get dressed.

"Sure," Jack replied, taking a seat on his newly made bed.

Janet withdrew the curtain halfway, allowing SG1 team to surround their leader's bed.

"How're you feeling, sir?" Sam asked.

"Fine, fine. Just peachy. Doc's bath worked wonders. What have you guys found?"

"Well, Jack," Daniel started, "have you used Ferretti's soap lately?"

"What?" Jack looked confused. " Ferretti's soap?" He stopped to think. "Yeah, I guess so. Yeah, I did. I was out, so I borrowed his. Why?"

Janet answered, "Well, sir, preliminary tests indicate very minute traces of a substance on Major Ferretti's soap that seem to be the same as I got from your skin scrapings. It appears to be related to urushiol oil, similar what you'd find in poison ivy or poison oak. Now, Major Ferretti hasn't had any of the problems you have –"

"He's on down-time," Jack interrupted.

"Yes, sir, I called him," Janet said. "He said to tell you it serves you right for stealing his soap." Janet smiled. "As I was saying, the major only had one small affected area that healed rapidly with the cream I gave you earlier. He used the soap you stole, sir, to wash his arm at least once before applying the cream. Now, we don't know why such an amazingly small amount of this substance, on soap no less, with water coursing to wash the oil off, could cause such a severe reaction in you in such a short period of time. You seem to be extremely sensitive."

"Ya think?" Jack retorted, shifting. Some measure of his discomfort was returning now that he was no longer submerged in the soothing water. It didn't help that his entire team kept staring at him, no doubt wondering just how much of him was covered by the rash.

"Keep in mind that we only have preliminary test results at this point, but based on these results the good news is that your rash should resolve in a few days, and we'll continue palliative therapy until that time."

"How long?" Jack asked, not looking forward to the next few days.

"It's hard to say, sir," Janet answered. "Based on the extent and severity of the rash you're experiencing, I'm guessing it will be at least a week until you're back to normal, if not longer."

Jack groaned and flopped back on the bed, causing his gown to ride up. He quickly yanked the hem down and glared at Daniel, daring him to make the comment he was so obviously preparing.

Daniel caught the glare and bit his tongue, smiling innocently at Jack. This situation lent itself to so many jokes. He would have opportunities later to make the most of them.

"We'll continue the steroid treatment and the oatmeal baths." Janet started running down her list of instructions. "I don't want you want you wearing any constricting clothing over the next couple of days." She held up her hand at Jack's attempt to interrupt. "Under no circumstances do I want you to touch your face. You've been lucky so far that it hasn't spread there, and I don't want it to."

"I used face wash," Jack mumbled.

"What?"

"I used face cleanser," Jack stated, a little louder this time, looking embarrassed at the admission. "You know, instead of Ferretti's soap."

"Oh. Okay, well that helps to explain that. Just don't spread it by scratching. And try not to touch anyone else until this has cleared up. Normal poison ivy can't be spread by scratching once the resin is washed off, and it isn't contagious, but we have no idea yet what this off-world variant may do." Janet concluded her directions, looking to the colonel for his acceptance.

Jack nodded. "Okay, Doc. No scratching. No touching. No clothes. You know, you really take the potentials out of that last one with the other orders," Jack teased. "Seriously, just keep that oatmeal stuff handy, and I'll do whatever you say." He scratched at his chest. "Relief seems to be temporary."

Daniel chuckled. "We'll get out and let you get back to your _bath_, Jack." He ushered his teammates out in front of him.

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Eight days later Jack was finally free of all rashes, baths, and creams and had been cleared for gate travel. He was looking forward to the upcoming mission to P3X yadda yadda yadda. Wherever it was he didn't care, as long as it wasn't here and didn't involve a lot of plant samples.

Jack opened his locker to find it piled with multiple 12-packs of Irish Spring, the tower precariously balanced and swaying slightly now that the door was open. He put a hand to the top of the pile, steadying it, and smiled slightly. His team, it seemed, was developing a sense of humor. Or maybe it was Ferretti. No matter.

He laughed. He'd have to think of some appropriate way to repay their kindness.

ooxooxooxoo Vége ooxooxooxoo

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